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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210171">30 Day OTP Fluff Prompts - Thancred Waters x WoL</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticBluebird/pseuds/ChaoticBluebird'>ChaoticBluebird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV, final fantasy 14 - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Couple, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Jumping Timeline, One Shot, Prompt Challenge, Short &amp; Sweet, super self indulgent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:08:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticBluebird/pseuds/ChaoticBluebird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A challenge I found on tumblr of 30 OTP Fluff prompts.</p><p>Very self-indulgent short, one shot ficlets at various times in their relationship and through the timeline of FFXIV. Other characters may pop up, but focus is on Thancred and my WoL, Phaedra Mero.<br/>Rating may change as other prompts are uploaded.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thancred Waters/Original Character(s), Thancred Waters/Original Female Character(s), Warrior of Light &amp; Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1. Nose Kiss(es)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phaedra didn’t know how long she was in the bathroom, nor how long she spent staring at her reflection in the mirror and analysing every ilm of what she saw looking back. By and large, she looked no different than the majority of the denizens of Eorzea. Two eyes. A nose. A mouth. All perfectly average. Perfectly unremarkable. Then there were the aspects that were less common. Her horns, the scales adorning her forehead, cheeks, neck and other parts of her body less commonly on show. Apart from Yugiri, Phaedra had never met -- let alone seen -- another person who looked like her. </p><p>Au Ra. </p><p>That was what Yugiri informed her their race was. Specifically of Raen descent. Apparently there was a village of them somewhere in the Far Eastern provinces of Othard; not that Phaedra ever envisioned visiting or that she even came from such a farflung location. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what life might have been like if she was raised among people who looked like her. </p><p>She probably wouldn’t hate her scales as much. And she would not have had to endure a childhood full of children teasing her and taunting her, calling her cursed or sick. Children afraid to come near her or touch her for fear of turning to stone as they told her she would. She would have had an easier time with shedding, too. And dealing with the growth of new scales as she aged. Perhaps instead of picking at the raw edges of her newly hardening skin and scarring them, she might have been given a way to soothe the pain and the itch until the process was done. </p><p>As it was; none of those things happened. She grew up struggling and suffering through childhood and adolescence never knowing what she was, where she came from, or how to deal with the changes she went through. She developed her own remedies for shedding and scale growth through experimentation. Trial and error. There was still a faint scar in her hairline where one concoction she tried burned her skin when she applied it. </p><p>Now she was older. She had her own merits to stand on, and she wasn’t the lonely little girl she was when she washed up on Eorzean shores. She had confidence she never expected to have. And people respected her because of the deeds she had done. No one stared at her scales or her horns or her spiked tail. No one gossiped behind their hands or pushed her around for looking different. Even so, there were some things that never quite went away. </p><p>“If the wind changes you’ll stay like that.” </p><p>Phaedra started and quickly jumped back from the mirror. Heat bloomed across her face and neck as she saw Thancred leaning on the open door frame to the bathroom. “I didn’t hear you come in.”</p><p>“Not surprised.” He pushed off the frame and approached, “you seemed to be in deep contemplation about something.” He stopped a fulm or so away from her. “Something on your mind?”</p><p>She shrugged and shook her head. “Not really. Just…” Phaedra adjusted her weight from one hip to the other and quickly crossed her arms. “Do…” She bit her lip and pressed her nails into her arms, biting into her skin. “Do… you think I’m pretty?” The heat of shame washed over her from head to foot, making her feel sick. Stomach turning, she was sure her skin became instantly clammy when she lifted her eyes to meet Thancred’s. He stood with his mouth drawn in a thin line and his uncovered eye boring into her, brows furrowed. It was like he was peering <em> inside </em> her, rather than looking at her, as if trying to gauge where this line of questioning was stemming from.</p><p>After a few moments, Phaedra blanched under his eyes. “Never mind. Foolish question.” She made for the bathroom door, attempting to slip between Thancred and the wall. Before she could breeze past him, however, he slid an arm around her waist and guided her back to stand in front of him. </p><p>“Do you?” asked Thancred.</p><p>“Do I what?” Phaedra ‘s gaze flickered everywhere, anywhere apart from Thancred’s face. She already felt small and stupid for asking his thoughts, he didn’t need to make it worse. </p><p>“Do you think you’re pretty? Because, truth be told, my opinion should not and does not matter.” His voice was firm, but there was a softness to it that gave Phaedra a sense of reassurance she was in need of. He wasn’t angry. Maybe just more… confused, by her question. </p><p>“It <em> does </em> matter. To me.” She shrugged again, but then turned and faced herself in the mirror. “I... “ Staring for a few seconds, she absorbed the details of her appearance. Without the scales she would be pretty. Without the cumbersome horns she would be pretty. Without the battle scars she would be pretty. “I don’t know.” Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. </p><p>Thancred stood adjacent to her, facing the mirror and his arm touching hers. “What about your appearance do you not like?” He asked, “because from my point of view - and I appreciate I am biased - I think you’re beautiful.” If he was aiming to get a smile with his words then Thancred hit a bullseye as Phaedra found herself unable to fight the bashful grin that came to her lips. He treated her to a kind, lop-sided smile in return and leaned against the counter. “I know you struggle with being so different.”</p><p>Phaedra huffed, “even though Miqo'te have tails and ears, they’re still attractive to look at. When people see me, the first thing they notice is the horns and the scales.”</p><p>“Untrue.” Phaedra watched Thancred in the mirror and he met her gaze in the reflection. “Even before we met properly under the Sultantree, the first thing I noticed about you when seeing you in The Quicksand were your eyes.”</p><p>“My…” Phaedra looked at herself in the mirror. “My eyes?”</p><p>“Your eyes are striking.” Thancred shifted behind her and in one fluid motion had turned Phaedra around to face him and hoisted her up onto the counter where he plopped her down. One hand remained on her waist, the other he lifted and tucked her hair back behind her horn. “I noticed the horns and scales eventually, yes. But your eyes were what first drew my attention.”</p><p>“And the fact I didn’t swoon the moment you opened your mouth?” teased Phaedra, relaxing a little. </p><p>Thancred chuckled, “Gods, I was a terrible man back then.” He gently knocked his forehead against hers and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Getting back to the point,” he cleared his throat, “obviously, I cannot change your opinion of how you view yourself. That is a challenge only you can undertake and overcome. However, should you need some moral support in accepting parts of you that are not to your liking, I am here to shower you with effusive praise and sing your beauty to the stars--”</p><p>“Don’t you--”</p><p>He grinned, wickedly. “In fact, it has been a while since I composed anything. Maybe I should--”</p><p>“Thancred Waters, I swear--!” Phaedra clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling the first few notes of what was undoubtedly an off-the-cuff, tuneless ballad. Thancred laughed and plucked Phaedra’s hand from over his mouth. “You can save effusive praise and singing to the starlight for someone else. I may simply need a steadying hand at times when my confidence begins to shake… Can you manage that?”</p><p>“Lucky for you,” Thancred pressed a kiss to the pattern of scales on the bridge of her nose, “I have two hands.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2. Reunion Hug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The trek from Rhalgr’s Reach to Porta Praetoria was a long, silent one. Each step was a step closer to the completion of Rhaglr’s Beacon. A step closer to rescuing Krile. A step closer to Ala Mhigo’s victory. And a step closer to the inevitable confrontation with Zenos. Lyse was the quietest on the journey, not that Phaedra was surprised - losing Conrad hit her hard, and his dying wish to make her commander was a responsibility that did not fit her quite right yet… But in time it would. It would chafe a bit at first, but Lyse proved herself nothing if not adaptable during their time in Othard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Resistance outpost was meagre at best, but well stocked and spirits seemed high when Phaedra and Lyse arrived with M’naago, Alphinaud and Alisaie. It was a mix of soldiers milling around and running through training. Templar Knights sparring with The Resistance and members of the Eorzea forces in equal measure. Medical tents set up and being tended to by chirurgeons of Ishgard and conjurers from Gridania. It was heartening to see so many people coming together to help Ala Mhigo be rid of the Garleans once and for all. Though the cost was already great and would become greater still, seeing everyone united in a common cause invoked a feeling of hope and optimism that permeated throughout the forward camp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a brief update and report to and from Raubahn, Phaedra was shown a tent set up for her so she could rest before the trials and battles that were to come. She retired willingly into the small cot and the cramped space lit only by oil lamps. Rest would do not only her weary body some good, but her weary heart and mind as well.. When she closed her eyes she could still see Gosetsu channeling his immense strength to hold up Doma Castle, giving her and the others a chance to escape. She could see it crumbling around him and the grief in the faces of those who knew him when they learned of his fate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another death she should have been able to prevent if she was just quicker or stronger or smarter. Another death in a stupid war with a stupid nation who’s only desire was to crush everyone else under heel. More blood on the Garlean’s hands. More blood on hers. Gosetsu knew the risks -- but he should have lived to see a free Doma. It was a harsh slap in the face to remember that though he was instrumental in its liberation, he was not around to watch it rebuild or to see his Lord Hien lead it to new heights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her tired state, she was not so far gone that all her senses left her. She grew aware of an additional presence in her tent approaching her and rose up from her cot with lightning speed, fists clenched and ready to strike. One fist went flying, and the head she was aiming for narrowly dodged out of the way in a blur of silver and black. Her second hit made an impact with a chest all dressed in white. Only on hearing a gasp did Phaedra recognize the other person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thancred?” she covered her mouth, aghast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, darling.” Thancred grunted as he straightened. “Good to see you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I--” Phaedra tugged her hair, “I’m sorry! I didn’t realise it was-- You should know better than to-- Are you alright? Should I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Settle down,” Thancred gestured in an attempt to placate her and offered a slightly pained smile. “You didn’t hit me hard. I think I’ll live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra exhaled, hard; not entirely convinced. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can administer some healing should you wish, but having been on the receiving end of your full force before I can assure you,</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was nothing.” The comment was made in jest, but Phaedra felt nothing but guilt wash over her.. She was looking forward to reuniting with Thancred the moment she set foot back on Eorzean soil. Hitting him and being reminded of the fight that forced her hand in the Praetorium was not how she envisioned it. To his credit, Thancred realised his joke was in bad taste and was quick to try and rectify it by closing the space between them and taking her into his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she could, Phaedra was sure she would have melted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, she had missed this. Speaking briefly by Linkpearl was not enough, and months away in Othard was too long to be without Thancred’s warmth and his embrace. His arms enveloped her like a familiar blanket and she wanted nothing more than to sink into him. He smelled of sandalwood, and old leather, of earth and the sun. His scent was home. His arms were home. The only one that mattered; and being held within them made - even just for a moment - all the pressures and the pain wash away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” Phaedra rasped, burying her face into Thancred’s neck and teetering on her toes to stay as close as possible. She didn’t want him to release her. She didn’t want to release him. Just a little longer. A minute, a bell… Just a little bit longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye,” Thancred murmured beside her horn. “And I you.” His voice was harsher than it was before as though he was trying to conceal some emotion he did not wish for her to see. Phaedra tightened her grip around his shoulders and Thancred buried one hand in her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you upon your arrival. Circumstances have had me infiltrating Ala Mhigo to find Krile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any luck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know her whereabouts, and a little of what the Garleans are doing… But, let’s save that for an official meeting, hm?” He peered down at her, head tilted to one side and his eyes hopeful. “For now, it’s just us and I would hate to waste what little time we have on talk of business..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra glanced down at the cot, “it's a bit small.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, “I dare not wear out the hero of the hour before her strength is needed most.” He sat and drew Phaedra down beside him. With some adjustment they were both able to lie face-to-face on the cot, a blanket drawn up half-way over them both. “For now,” Thancred sighed, using his left arm as a pillow while drawing his other hand up and down Phaedra’s back, “for now all I want is this.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Is that alright by you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deeply breathing in the scent of him, Phaedra nodded and allowed her eyes to slip closed. She felt lighter than she had in months with him there. Despite stepping back onto Eorzean shores weeks ago, only now did she truly feel like she was home. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Spooning For Warmth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was a coldness about The Tempest that struck right down to the bone. A chill that was ever present and no amount of clothing could block out. The only thing worse than the temperature was the ominous and foreboding knowledge that only a faes magic was keeping the area from flooding back up with water. And if the First had taught Thancred anything, it was that the fae were a fickle folk</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ondo were generous enough to grant him and the others a place to rest before they continued on with their quest to find Emet-Selch. The Tempest was vast and the treacherous ground did not make progress easy or fast. One misstep and the ground was like to slip out from beneath you into a previous unseen chasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resting in what was previously a fully submerged home for aquatic peoples was not what one would call… comfortable. The ground was waterlogged, and sitting or lying upon it immediately soaked any clothing that touched it. The Ondo were not equipped with blankets or waterproof bedding as they had no need for it, so it was a case of finding the least waterlogged place and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoping. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched over his companions as they slept. The twins side-by-side, with Ryne curled up close to Alisaie. Urianger leaning back against the rock wall, his head bowed forward, and Y’shtola using her pack as a pillow. He needed to rest, too. There was no reason for him to be watching. The Ondo had promised they were in no danger while within the region of their home and Thancred knew there would be little or no time to rest once they made the descent to where Emet-Selch was lurking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, tired as he was, rest did not call for him. He was too worried, too wound up, too upset about Phaedra’s condition to rest. On their way to The Tempest he had been keeping a close eye on her. While Y’shtola and Ryne could judge the Light inside her, Thancred knew Phaedra’s more subtle tells. The ones that told him if she was in pain, or tired, or growing frustrated. Since learning of her situation she had been pushing herself even more than before. Striding ahead without waiting for anyone. Running head first into fights with no thought for her own safety or wellbeing. It was like she was on a suicide mission and it was only with immense insistence that she agreed to rest before travelling on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra's sleep did not appear to be as restful as Thancred and the others hoped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had settled twenty fulms away from the others; a safe distance she called it - just in case. Despite falling asleep relatively quickly, she was soon tossing and turning. Pained grimaces flickering across her face and the occasional meek whimper as she curled in on herself. Thancred watched from a small distance, feeling helpless and angry. The Exarch had a lot to answer for, putting Phaedra through this - even for the benefit of The First - was an unfathomable cruelty. There would be invisible wounds etched into her psyche for the rest of her life from this experience… And Thancred could do nothing, but watch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watch her whine and shiver. Watch her fight the pulsing aches in her head. Watch her catch herself if she stumbled when the pain flashed. Watch her draw in on herself when she saw something the rest of them could not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, it hurt to see her like this. It hurt like the deepest, freshest wound to see her in so much pain and full of so much fear, but pushing through it, pushing beyond it because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. She couldn’t lay down and die and wait for someone else to fix this… No, Phaedra had to do it herself. And she did. Agonizing step after agonizing step. Sharp breath after sharp breath, she carried on leading and fighting and doing what was expected and asked of her, even as her time grew shorter and shorter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squatting at her side, Thancred brushed her hair away from where it was sticking to her face. He noticed she was shivering, and when he touched his fingers to her skin it was like touching a block of ice. Removing his gunblade from where it was holstered, he shrugged off his jacket and lay it over her, in the hopes the residual warmth of his body might help. He watched as she cowered from something in her dreams, and tears beaded in the corners of her eyes and made a slow trail down her cheeks. Something constricted around his chest making it ache. He touched the back of his hand to her face, wiping the offending tears away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember her being so small and fragile. Her skin was almost translucent and looked as though it might tear like rice paper at the slightest touch. Phaedra was always a beacon for other people. She was hope, when they had none. She was a banner to follow in the wake of disaster. So much was asked of her over and over and over again, and she never said no. Never complained. Never tired. And now… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if he lost her? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn the First, and the Source and the peoples of both worlds, what if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost her? What if these were the last few precious moments they would spend together? Here, under an oppressive, dark ocean, amidst the cold and wet of the Ondo Cups. What if they were already too late to stop the Light from consuming her? What if it came to a fight? Would he have the strength to brandish his weapon against her? Even if she threatened his life and the lives of the others? It didn’t bear thinking about. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think about it, but it was all his mind could focus on. The endless possibilities of how this would all end. So many possibilities and so few of them were good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did she do this over and over again? Confront dangers and evils without knowing the outcome? How did she put herself in untold dangers and manage to come out the otherside, </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiling</span>
  </em>
  <span>? She was braver than he was, that was for certain. Braver, and better, and stronger. He knew if it was him being consumed by the Light he would have turned by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaustion was slowly catching up with him, and Thancred resolved himself to rest if just for a bell or two. He did not wish to leave Phaedra alone, and hoped he might be able to offer some meagre warmth and comfort, in this cold, dank environment. He lay down behind her, shuffled up and curled his body around hers while sliding an arm over her waist to pull her back flush to his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra jerked beside him, starting awake with a gasp. “Shh, shh…” he murmured, “it’s just me. Go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thancred?” she sounded sleepy and confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her body shivered violently. “M’cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” He tightened his grip and willed himself to warm her. “‘Tis too wet for a fire to take. No kindling is dry enough. Even magical fire fails down here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your jacket?” Phaedra tugged on the garment he laid over her. “Aren’t you cold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fret about me, Phae.” He pressed his forehead to the back of her head and exhaled. She quivered again, so hard it rippled through Thancred’s body and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “You need it more than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made a noise of protest. Thancred tightened his arm around her when he felt her beginning to move to prevent her from doing so. She gave up after a few seconds, too worn out to fight him. She made no further attempts to move or make conversation, but when she laced her fingers between Thancred’s and squeezed, he squeezed back. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Walking Hand-in-Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thancred never understood the novelty of hand-holding until Phaedra introduced him to it. He was familiar with the practice, but never felt the need to indulge in such a simple thing with paramours in his past. But, as with many things, Phaedra changed that. She liked touch, and Thanced swiftly  - and willing - found he enjoyed the habit and ease of holding hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was such a simple and small detail he had overlooked for years, but in truth it was a language and declaration of its own. A non-verbal statement of trust and intimacy. Telling onlookers 'this is a person I care about and will protect'. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of everything he missed in the First, Thancred was surprised that walking hand-in-hand with Phaedra was one of the main things. He missed how easily her fingers slipped between his. How they fell into step with each other when browsing the stalls in Mor Dhona or taking a stroll when a rare moment of free time arose. He missed the way she would brush her thumb along his, or squeeze his fingers in hers. He missed how she would surprise him by kissing the back of his hand, and how she would sometimes trace his fingers and veins as they lay together in bed, talking of nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never considered during his time in the First just how bereft of physical contact he had become. How much he had come to rely on Phaedra’s touch to ground and comfort him in times of difficulty or strife. The first few months were the most difficult for him, when he was listless and found himself without a direction or task to fulfill. It was only through making the decision to hone his gunbreaker skills and liberate Ryne - then Minfilia - from Eulmore that his missing Phaedra and her touch receded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she arrived in the First and he saw her he worried he had allowed himself to become too hardened and reluctant to be close to anyone. Keeping Ryne safe and out of Eulmore’s clutches, keeping them both alive while traversing the unforgiving landscape of Norvrandt left little time for moping or missing something as inconsequential as a hand to hold. But it wasn’t a little thing, nor was it inconsequential. Not really. Phaedra’s touch reminded him that he was worth more than he believed. That he was more than just the broken man he often felt he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time Phaedra reached for his hand in the First, he snatched his out of her reach on instinct. Some defensive spark in his brain mistook her gentle offer of affection as an enemy and he regretted it instantly. She disguised the hurt and confusion with a strained smile, but he saw the flicker of it before her mask fell into place. The guilt was like a sickness inside him, each time he flinched or recoiled from her it became worse and worse until it was like a maligned growth inside him, weighing him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he could just explain… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know the trials he had been through the last five years. How hard it had been, and what he had been forced to do. The dangers he had put himself in, the fear every day of encountering Ran’jit, or Eulmoran forces, or sin eaters. He distanced himself from Minfilia for her sake, as well as his own. Now he was distancing himself from Phaedra - and that hurt just as keenly as if he carried a festering wound. But he couldn’t be selfish. Couldn’t be foolish or pretend that things could be as they were in the Source. Phaedra needed to focus on the task at hand, and so did Thancred. There was no room for affection or dalliances here, not with two worlds and millions of lives at stake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra was patient though, and dedicated, and adorably stubborn. She made slow progress on requainting him with her touch and wanting it. A brush on his arm over his jacket with her hand, her fingers ghosting against his while they walked side-by-side through Il Mheg. Small increments that allowed Thancred to set the boundaries. She respected them, and nudged them a little at a time until he was no longer flinching or snatching his hand away when she touched it. She even had him looking forward to those moments, few and far between as they were during their time in the land of the fae. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After weeks in Il Mheg, things were almost back to some semblance of normality between them. The awkwardness of their initial reunion was gone, playful comments replacing long, drawn out silences that turn the air heavy and stagnant. Thancred felt lighter in Phaedra’s presence than he had in the whole five years he spent in the First, and the change in his demeanor was noticed by others as well who commented how nice it was to see him smiling for a change, rather than scowling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The evening of their return to the Crystarium, after reporting to The Exarch and having time to rest, Thancred made - what he considered -  a bold move and went to Phaedra’s quarters in the Pendants. He knocked and she answered, looking surprised to see him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred offered his hand to her, “It's a beautiful evening. I wondered if you might join me for a stroll, while we have some time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra glanced from his face, to his hand and back. He thought for a few moments she would refuse and was ready to make a swift, humiliating exit. Instead, she beamed and clasped his hand, lacing her fingers between his as they had time and time again in the Source. Thancred released a breath he was holding as the two of them fell into step beside each other. Phaedra stroked her thumb over the top of his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few blissful hours, all was easy and right once more. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Late Night Talks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“And this is?” Thancred asked, indicating a drawing of an Au Ra woman with forward-pointing horns in Phaedra’s sketchbook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sadu. Of the Dotharl.” Phaedra reclined, her back comfortably resting against his chest. “Of the tribes in the Steppe, they are the most… bloodthirsty. They revel in massacre and they’re taught not to fear death. They believe that when a warrior falls in battle they will be reincarnated into the tribe. Sadu is their </span>
  <em>
    <span>udgan - </span>
  </em>
  <span>their leader. It’s her responsibility to recognize the spirits of the fallen as they’re reborn as infants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting philosophy.” Hummed Thacred, peering over her shoulder at the smaller sketches of Sadu and other Au Ra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s... “ Phaedra turned the page. More Au Ra sketches, some of the native flora and fauna with the names written beside them in her jagged hand. Having been unable to join her in Othard, Thancred was enjoying this journey through her drawings of her time there. “I suppose it’s heartening, in a way. To them it means if a loved one dies they’ll come back, eventually. They may not look the same, or speak the same, or even be the same sex they were when they died, but deep down… It’s still them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Perching his chin on top of her head, Thancred brushed his fingers along her bare arms. For the first time in moons they had the opportunity to be together and had shut themselves away in Phaedra’s apartment in the Goblet. Ala Mhigo was in good hands, and after dispatching Zenos and Shinryu, Phaedra deserved a rest. “And all the Au Ra of the Steppe are Xaela?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra nodded, “all of them.” She turned another page. On this was another Au Ra woman with similar fin-shaped horns to her own. “This is Cirina of the Mol. They were the tribe Hien was associated with. Who we became associated with and fought with in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naadam</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like you absorbed an awful lot about their culture.” Thancred remarked. Outside was dark, a clear sky and full moon just visible when the drapes moved in the breeze. The chronometer on the far wall read just after two in the morning, but neither he or Phaedra had any urge to rest just yet. “The tribes of the Steppe clearly had an impact on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged and one of the straps of her chemise dropped down her arm, “I suppose?” She paused, pursing her lips in thought. “I don’t know anything of my own culture, or where I come from. I know I don’t come from Othard, from Sui-no-Sato, but being around so many people like me… I couldn’t help but want to learn all that I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t criticizing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Phaedra tilted her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw. “We’ll have to go there. I think you would find it interesting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would that it could be so simple.” Thancred tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Beyond Scion business, it’s not as though I could teleport there with you. Given my condition.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are other modes of transport.” Phaedra remarked. Thancred watched as she closed the sketchbook, leaned over the edge of the bed and slid it out of the way. She shuffled her way towards the top of the bed, and lifted the covers. Thancred followed. “To get to Othard in the first place we traveled by ship. No doubt Tataru could twist Carvallain’s arm again to get us passage on <em>The </em></span>
  <em>
    <span>Misery</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>The </em></span>
  <em>
    <span>Misery</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Thancred lay on his side, perching his head on a fist. “What would possess someone to call their vessel <em>The </em></span>
  <em>
    <span>Misery</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra lay on her side facing him. “I don’t know. But it got us to Othard in one piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flopping down onto his back, Thancred exhaled deeply. “Hm.” He slid one arm behind his head. “Still a troublesome way to get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could make a trip of it.” Phaedra moved closer until she was leaning up on his chest. “Just you can I, Scion business and Warrior of Light business permitting. I could show you around Kugane, and the Ruby Sea. You could meet Soroban--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you convince him to give me the Kojin blessing as well?” asked Thancred, smirking at her while weaving the fingers of his free hand through her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and rolled her eyes at him fondly. “I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She tapped him on the nose. “Why do you want it anyway? I thought you said you could hold your breath for ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can.” Thancred shrugged one shoulder. “But, being able to breathe underwater would be far more beneficial, I’m sure you would agree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair point.” After a moment’s pause, Phaedra continued. “I am serious about taking a trip if we can.” She drummed her fingers against his chest as she spoke. “We both deserve it, and I would genuinely like to show you Kugane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Having looked through your sketches I feel like I know the place already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even close.” Drawing closer, Phaedra pressed a light kiss to the angle of Thancred’s jaw. “We could stay at the Bokairo Inn.” Another kiss, this time at the corner of his mouth. “Partake in the hot springs.” She kissed the opposite corner. “Enjoy some of the food.” A kiss to the end of his nose. “Maybe even get dressed up all fancy.” Finally she kissed his lips, softly and with laughter bubbling up inside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dressed up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm-hm.” She nodded, moving closer still to brush her nose along his. “You could put on a waist coat and tie.” Her fingers wound through his hair. “You would look so handsome all dressed up in a smart suit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred pressed his fingers along Phaedra’s back, content to enjoy her fantasy and suggestions. “And what would you be wearing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm… What would you want me to be wearing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly? Nothing.” Grinned Thancred. Phaedra snorted, and buried her face in his chest as she laughed. “But, I fear that would be terribly draughty and awkward to explain. So, forsaking no clothing, what about a garment that is… figure-hugging?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Figure-hugging?” Phaedra considered for a moment or two, “I can work with that.” She kissed him again, before flopping on her side and settling in close. “I’ll talk to Tataru in the morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yawning, Thancred peered down at the top of her head. “You do that.” He allowed his eyes to slip closed, imagining what a brief respite in Kugane might actually entail. Even though it would never happen - his life and Phaedra’s life simply would not allow for a frivolous trip abroad - it was entertaining to indulge in fantasy.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Getting Caught While Making Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A little spicy, nothing graphic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The last thing Phaedra was expecting upon returning to the Rising Stones late at night was to be unceremoniously dragged into an alcove on her way to her quarters and kissed breathless; but that was what happened and where she found herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was tired when she arrived, but the adrenaline of her surprise chased that away and now she was awake and alert, her body tingling from head-to-toe. Thancred had her all but pinned to the wall, the dim lighting of the hallway casting soft illumination that left them half in shadow and half in light. His kisses were frantic, hard, and hot and he held her face in hands that were trembling. When Phaedra opened her eyes, all she could see were strands of silver across her vision, and the slight furrow of Thancred’s brow that conveyed a need and desperation for touch and connection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone,” Phaedra gasped between kisses, “could see us~” Her voice lilted slightly towards the end, a reaction to a cold hand sliding beneath her shirt and caressing her rapidly warming skin. It wouldn’t have mattered if someone saw if their relationship was public knowledge… But it wasn’t - and they chose to keep it that way. For Thancred to take such a risk of being caught was out of character.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t care.” Thancred rasped back. He dragged blunt nails along her lower back, making her shudder. “Need this.” He pushed against her back bringing her body into contact with his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small, piteous whine arose from the back of Phaedra’s throat. She was in no mind to refuse. If she was honest, she needed this, too. Needed his hands on her, and his mouth, and his breath mingling with hers. She needed - </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted - </span>
  </em>
  <span>the sense of reality and certainty that Thancred offered. That she was more than the Warrior of Light, more than Eorzea’s weapon. He reminded her she was a person too. A woman with needs and wants and dreams that deserved to be realised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra curled her fingers around silver locks, pulling gently and angling her head to deepen the kiss. Thancred braced one hand against the wall and dragged the other down, over her thigh to hitch her leg up around his hip. Phaedra scratched the back of his neck, earning a low moan in response. She smiled and nipped his lower lip, before rising onto her toes to kiss him again. She slid her arm around his neck and over his shoulders, her body curving and fitting against Thancred’s in a perfect union.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tongue pushed past her lips as he palmed her rear through her trousers. Laughter bubbled up inside Phaedra’s chest, and Thancred swallowed the sound with a groan as he drove his hips forward, pressing between her legs. Desire lanced through her and settled in her belly with a desperate, molten heat. He moved against her again, his excitement tangible with every gesture and motion. Rough, calloused fingers pushed the open collar of her shirt aside skimming the swell of her breast and sending levinbolts dancing over her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were they </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing this? In a public hallway where anyone returning from a late night mission or simply going to bed could find and see them? If Thancred had his way, then it seemed likely - and if she was honest, the prospect of getting caught added a layer of excitement to things… But she didn’t want the others to find out about them like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Than-</span>
  <em>
    <span>cred</span>
  </em>
  <span>~” Her attempt at persuasion became just another moan as he cupped her breast, bare skin to bare skin, his thumb swirling around her nipple. “Mhmm,” Phaedra hummed against his mouth, her brows furrowing and the heat in her belly coiling lower to the sensation of him rutting between her thighs, delicious friction causing her toes to curl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tail lashing back-and-forth, Phaedra worked a few of the clasps of his jerkin free, exposing sunkissed skin to her wandering hands. She skimmed her palms along his shoulders and cradled the back of his head, ready and willing to just let things take their course. She was too far gone to care if they got caught now, and if they did then at least the secret would be out for all and sundry and they wouldn’t have to hide it any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a sound of something heavy hitting the floor with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> that broke through the haze of want and need. Thancred jerked back, quickly snatching his hands off of Phaedra’s body. She missed the connection, but got to straightening her clothes immediately as both she and Thancred peered down the hallway. Standing dead center, a ledger at his feet was Riol, his uncovered eye wide and his mouth agape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-sorry!” He turned on his heel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred, lips kiss swollen and his face flush, growled under his breath. “My quarters, go.” He gave Phaedra’s thigh a light pat in that direction and then marched purposefully down the hall in pursuit of the fleeing Riol. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra retreated to Thancred’s quarters and sat on the edge of his bed. All thoughts of heat were gone, replaced with an icy coldness and dread. How could they have been so stupid as to engage in something so risky in a public place? How could she not have been more direct and assertive? Told Thancred ‘no, not here’. That’s all it would have taken. He would have ushered them into his room, or hers and they could have continued unabated and without the risk of discovery. Burying her face in her hands, she groaned. Warmth radiated from her cheeks. How could they have been so bloody stupid?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not more than two minutes later, Thancred appeared all but dragging Riol by the collar of his shirt and closed the door behind them. Thancred stood in front of the door with his arms crossed and a face like thunder. Phaedra quickly dashed to his side, placing a soft hand on his arm. After a moment she looked to Riol.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Riol…” she started, her stomach sinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t see anything!” Riol exclaimed. “Nothin’ you don’t want me to have seen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t go blabbing to anyone, will you?” growled Thancred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. On my life, not a word to a soul!” Riol looked more terrified, glancing from Thancred’s wrathful gaze to Phaedra. “I swear.” He pleaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We believe you.” Phaedra answered, casting a furtive look at Thancred and gently squeezing his bicep. He stared at her for a few seconds, his brown eye glancing over her face before he exhaled a long breath and the tension receded from his posture. “It was our fault for getting carried away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye.” Thancred spoke more to the floor, than Riol. “Apologies for my rough behaviour. I was… caught unawares.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll agree to that.” Riol grinned a little, though it quickly disappeared with a sharp glare from Thancred. The three of them stood in heavy, awkward silence for several long and tense seconds. “So…” Riol rubbed the back of his neck. “Not that it’s any of my business but, is this a one-off or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Thancred snapped, “it is not your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, al--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it isn’t a one-off.” Phaedra spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phae--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned her gaze to Thancred, “we’ll have to tell people eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Unfolding his arms, he grasped her hand in his. He spoke after a long silence where they stared at each other, communicating silently. “Since Phaedra and the others found me in Dravania.” Thancred told Riol, his voice steady and turning his eye towards him. “That’s how long this has been going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riol’s eye widened. “Dravania?” He repeated. “But that was… That means… That was over </span>
  <em>
    <span>a year ago</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He said, finally. “How have you kept this quiet for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By being careful.” Phaedra quirked her mouth to one side. “We slipped up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why keep it quiet?” Riol asked. “I know you must have your reasons, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There never seemed a good time to tell people.” Shrugged Phaedra. She squeezed Thancred’s hand, for some reason it felt good to talk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> about their relationship. Exciting, almost. “At first we weren’t sure if there even was anything to tell people, and by the time things became serious it felt like it was too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus,” continued Thancred, “I have no desire for my past reputation to besmirch Phaedra’s. Neither her character, nor as the Warrior of Light. Keeping things quiet meant there was no risk to that.” He looked uncomfortable as he spoke, and Phaedra noticed he was avoiding her gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riol tutted, one arm bent across his chest and the other leaning against it as he rubbed his chin, “makes sense, I s’pose.” He took a deep breath, lifted his shoulders and then dropped them to release whatever tension he still held. “Worry not, your secret is safe with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Riol.” Phaedra offered him a grateful smile and went to open the door. “We’ll tell everyone… Eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.” Thancred added, watching Riol pass through the threshold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Night!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Phaedra closed the door, Thancred crossed his room and flopped face-first down onto his bed. Smiling to herself, Phaedra followed. She sat on the edge and began to remove her shoes. Thancred’s arms snaked around her waist from behind and he buried his head beside her hip. She ran her fingers through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> our fault.” Phaedra told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Thancred’s voice was muffled. “I know… M’fault, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a willing participant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred turned his head, peering up at her. “Were you?” It was a loaded question, searching for reassurance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was.” Phaedra stroked his face. She leaned down and kissed his brow. “Though I admit you surprised me at first.” Thancred shuffled over, making room for Phaedra as she lay down beside him. He perched his head on his fist. Phaedra stroked his forearm, where it remained over her waist. “What brought it on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad day.” Thancred gave a nonchalant shrug. Phaedra quirked a brow, waiting for him to elaborate further. “A bad night’s sleep and some troubling intel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Phaedra considered for a moment. “Well, I can’t do much about the intel.” She rolled over, and wrapped her arms around Thancred’s chest. “But if I stay perhaps you’ll sleep better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt and heard him exhale as his arms curled around her. He kissed the top of her head, then her brow when she tilted her head back. A further tilt, and it was her lips that he met. It wasn’t a kiss like before, all heat and need and hunger, just simple affection and familiar warmth. Phaedra relaxed within his embrace, hoping at the back of her mind that Riol would keep his word. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Surprises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Set during Stormblood, just before the WoL heads to Othard with Alisaie, Lyse and Alphinaud...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thancred hurried down the corridor of The Drowning Wench counting the doors on the right and turning down another hallway until he was in front of the room he wanted. He was a little out of breath having all-but-sprinted from the docks of Limsa Lominsa, along Hawker’s Alley to arrive at the inn before his Scions companions were due to leave. Baderon was reluctant, at first, to provide Thancred the information he wanted; but a well placed mention of ‘Scion business’ and dropping the Warrior of Light’s name into the conversation quickly greased the wheels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a moment to compose himself, Thancred straightened his back and knocked. He waited a few moments, straining his hearing and hoping he hadn’t got the times of the tide wrong. Any good ship captain only sailed </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> the tide, and it wasn’t due to turn for another bell or more - Thancred had checked and doubled checked before setting off on an overnight caravan from Mor Dhona. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within a few moments, the handle turned and the door was pulled open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I would be down at the dock in half a bell Alisaie…” Phaedra stood in the threshold and blinked a few times. “You’re not Alisaie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred glanced down at himself, “am I not? Thank you for clarifying.” He entered and closed the door behind him, quickly silencing any questions Phaedra had with a long kiss. It had only been two days since she left Mor Dhona to come to Limsa and begin the long trek to Othard, but it already felt like weeks. How he was going to manage the long distance and time apart he didn’t know. He also did not want to think about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Phaedra broke the kiss, breathless and flushed. “This is an unexpected surprise.” She toyed with his braid in her fingers. “I didn’t know you were coming to see us off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only that was the main reason for my being in Limsa.” Thancred gave a crooked grin, “I’m here, officially, on Scion business. But, I thought I would risk seeing you before you and the others left for distant shores.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra kissed him, “you’re sweet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the bed Thancred could see her belongings, laid out and organized ready to be packed away for the voyage. This was a habit of Phaedra’s. Checking, double checking and sometimes triple checking her gear. Making sure she had what she needed for the foreseeable future. Making sure she was prepared and sometimes over-prepared, should the worst occur. Thancred was the same. Since losing his ability to manipulate aether and being forced to rely on his wits, cunning and skill, any mission he undertook required double the amount of preparation and groundwork. It was time consuming, annoying, but necessary. And Thancred would take time consuming and annoying over not returning hale and whole due to improper planning on his part. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released Phaedra and watched her go to where her belongings were arranged and begin to meticulously pack them. One thing, then another, pausing between each item to make adjustments and room in her pack. There was something off about her. Her body held a certain tension across her back and shoulders and every few seconds she flexed her hands open and closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something troubling you?” asked Thancred, approaching and sitting in a vacant spot on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra tucked her loose hair behind her horn as she lifted her head to look at him. “No. Why?” Her gaze darted away and she clenched her fingers around the clothes in her hand. Thancred waited, hands in his lap. “I wish we didn’t have to sail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nervous about the voyage?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I … don’t much like the ocean.” Phaedra’s voice was still and quiet. “Too much water. Too unpredictable. Storms that come out of nowhere and...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred reached for her hand and squeezed. She gave him a long look with a wan smile. He understood her reservations. He had witnessed her waking up from nightmares that were memories of the shipwreck that brought her to Eorzean shores in the first place. Whenever he asked her about them she  froze up afraid to delve into traumatic memories, or paralysed by the fear of what she might discover if she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you could come with us.” Phaedra said after a few moments, her smile turning sad. “It’s a long way to Othard and there’s no telling how long we’ll be gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I will only be a linkpearl away.” Thancred kissed the back of her hand. “And while I may not be able to accompany you, perhaps a small part of me will suffice.” He got to his feet and dug into the pocket of his jerkin. Phaedra watched him quizzically. “Turn around and close your eyes.” She narrowed her eyes, lips quirking to the side with suspicion. “Do you trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Against my better judgement, perhaps.” She closed her eyes and turned her back towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your terrible judgement has worked out rather well, I would say.” Thancred retorted, stepping up behind her. He cleared her hair over one shoulder and lifted his arms above her. Unclasping the chain on the choker in his hands, he gently placed it around her throat and fastened it. Then he guided her towards the dresser where there was a mirror. “At least it turned out well for me.” He leaned his chin on her shoulder and wound his arms around her waist. “Alright, you may open your eyes. My thanks for indulging me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra blinked her eyes open. They immediately honed in on the choker that now adorned her neck. Two pieces of leather that were woven into one piece at the back. Six studs lining the bottom rung of leather, a simple silver ornament dividing them into three either side. Place into the silver was an unassuming blue gem. Not an expensive piece of jewelry by any means. Not ostentatious or extravagant; it was for all intents and purposes very plain and common looking, but when Thancred saw it being hawked by a merchant in Ul’dah moons ago, something compelled him to buy it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s lovely. Thank you.” Phaedra rubbed her horn against Thancred’s hair as she touched the dangling silver oval with her fingertips. “What’s the occasion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No occasion.” Thancred nestled closer, nuzzling the curve of her neck. “I thought, perhaps, if you find yourself in need of courage or feel uncertain at any time it might be heartening to have a reminder of home.” She hummed, in agreement or with contentment Thancred wasn’t sure. “If you need to, you can close your eyes, breathe…” He inhaled purposely and Phaedra did the same, “count to ten… and think of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hummed again, a happy little noise that made Thancred’s whole body feel light. Phaedra turned her head to rest her forehead against his temple, her eyes closed and her fingers still on the choker. Thancred stared at their reflection in the mirror, the two of them entwined and urged himself to imprint the image to his memory. He raced to memorize the way she felt in his arms, how she smelled and the warmth of her smile at that moment. They had so little time left to them before the tide would take her to faraway shores, Thancred found himself wanting time to stop and grant them a few moments more.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The necklace in question is actually the Atrociraptorskin necklace (I have all of them in the glamour dresser, and Phaedra wears the necklace described here from this pont onwards).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Can’t Keep Their Hands Off Each Other (In Public)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something to be said about the phrase </span>
  <em>
    <span>'absence makes the heart grow fonder'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Thancred could attest to the truth in that statement. He also believed it needed the addendum </span>
  <em>
    <span>'and hungry'</span>
  </em>
  <span>. For days he and Phaedra were engaged in a subtle game of touches and gestures. Brief brushes of the hand or lips in places perhaps too intimate for public, but unable to help themselves when the opportunity arose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It started in Il Mheg. The Bookman's Shelves to be exact, while they scoured the tomes in Urianger's hoard for any that might help with their predicament of souls returning from the First to the Source. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or faerie magic, but since then it had proven difficult to keep their hands to themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercifully - and if the deep scarlet flush to Phaedra's cheeks was anything to go by - their game was nearing its end. One of them would emerge victorious in who could outlast the other. Before it came to its conclusion, however, Thancred was determined to have a little more fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An evening’s revelry in The Wandering Stairs proved a suitable remedy for overworked minds and eyes made tired by pages of text in old tomes. Thancred joined Urianger, Alisaie, Alphinaud, Ryne and Phaedra half a bell after they arrived. Y’shtola was still elbow deep in books and would join them later, so she said. After collecting a drink from Glynard, Thancred sat on a stool kept vacant for him between Phaedra and Ryne. Several denizens of the Crystarium were also around the table, some Thancred recognized from the Mean, others were decked in their guard regalia, one or two seemed to be simple inhabitants taking the opportunity to relax with the Warriors of Darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good of you to join us,” Alisaie spoke over her tankard, her voice clipped. “Took your time, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred leaned his elbows on the table, “I was caught on my way by Eidith.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your admirer?” asked Alphinaud. “Is she still hounding you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is… persistent, I’ll give her that.” Shrugging a shoulder, Thancred took a deep drink from his tankard. Out of the corner of his eye he noted Phaedra’s shoulders had stiffened. Eidith made no attempt to hide her admiration of him, going so far as to ask Phaedra about him in person detail while being woefully ignorant of or simply ignoring their own relationship. He reached under the table and placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. Her reaction was instant, eyes widening and hurriedly putting her tankard to her mouth to hide her surprise. “Nothing I need worry about. She’s eager, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied with his reason for lateness, Alisaie let the issue lie and returned to the conversation she was in the middle of with a lop-eared viera woman Thancred knew from the Mean. Alphinaud, too, continued his discussion with Urianger and Ryne asking questions about The Empty and the Primals summoned through memory and Eden’s power. Thancred was content to sit, drink, and let conversation wash over him. The noise was welcome after the musty silence of the Cabinet of Curiosities. The light, the ale, and the cool breeze a balm for a long, fruitless search through page after page. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind stopped when he felt fingers sliding between his where his hand rested in his lap. Phaedra’s fingers, her thumb brushing along the top of his while she continued talking animatedly to Katliss opposite her. He wanted to laugh, her touches were so innocent at times. She could be bolder, he knew that. He also knew she wouldn’t risk it in front of other people. He was not so reluctant to act out. After all, with all the bustle and noise of The Wandering Stairs his antics would go unnoticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Phaedra released his hand, Thancred leaned back a little. He smiled as Bragi spoke to him, answered casually and let his free hand drop to his side. Phaedra’s back was facing the railing; no one would see. He watched the others around him, gazing flicking from person to person to see where their attention was and if they were keeping an eye on him. Satisfied he was in the clear, he casually placed the palm of his hand against what was graspable of Phaedra’s rear and squeezed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, she sputtered into her tankard. Thancred dropped his hand to his side and eyed her with feigned concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, Phaedra!” Alphinaud handed her a napkin, “are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes wide and cheeks glowing, she nodded as she mopped her mouth. “Swallowed too fast.” She replied with a rasp to her voice and patted her chest. “Down the wrong way.” Thancred did not miss the brief glare she sent his way. “Sorry, Katliss, what were you saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred had to admit she recovered better than he expected her to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fell into easy conversation with Ryne and a mystel girl about her age with whom Ryne had lessons. The two of them giggled and chatted animatedly, quickly forgetting Thancred was there and he watched with a small sense of pride at how much Ryne had grown and become her own person since he met her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After ten minutes or so, when Phaedra’s guard was down he reached over again, ensuring his arm was hidden below table height. She stiffened at the initial moment of his touch, her shoulders tensing and he saw her glance at him. He waited, five, ten, twenty seconds before sliding his hand over her trousers towards her tail. Wrapping his hand around the base of it, Thancred managed not to grin as he rubbed two fingers against a sensitive spot on the underneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra shot up out of her seat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“REFILLS?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting, she grabbed up the empty tankards on the table and hurried off towards the bar. Thancred chuckled. He downed what was left of his drink and rose to his feet. As he did, he noticed Urianger’s withering gaze and grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He joined Phaedra at the bar where she was bouncing on the balls of her feet and chasing her breath. She shot him a dark look when he leaned on the counter beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was dirty.” She remarked, staring dead ahead. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that my tail is… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sensitive.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Thancred smirked, “I thought to hurry our game along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Game?” she repeated, huffing. “We’re playing a game?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought we were.” A pit developed in his stomach. Gods, had he been playing and pushing her and she been innocent of the situation this whole time? “... Were you not?” Dread nagged at the back of his mind as he and Phaedra looked at each other. Tense moments grew to tense seconds. He feared this really had been one sided and his advances were not only in bad taste, but unwanted and not encouraged. Then, Phaedra’s confusion broke into a pleased smile of her own and she laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got you.” She shoved his upper arm. Relief flooded Thancred’s body. “You should have seen your face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now who’s playing dirty?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, “consider that payback for the tail grabbing.” Glynard brought over Thancred’s refilled tankard. He leaned down on the counter and took a long drink from it, pausing when Phaedra shifted towards him. “You know…” She was so close her breath and lips tickled his ear. His spine tingled. “We could always retire early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could we?” he kept his eyes forward. “Are you conceding?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm…” Phaedra leaned closer. She nipped the cuff of his ear and his stomach fell through the floor. “Maybe. Just this once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred sighed and pushed his barely touched drink to the side. There was a tray now in front of Phaedra waiting to be taken to their waiting friends and companions, not that she was paying it any mind. Her eyes were fixed on him, pupils dilated, and the corner of her bottom lip alluringly tucked behind her teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, when you put it like that.” He glanced around to see if anyone was watching and quickly dipped his head to kiss her. “Wait for me in your room.” He squeezed her backside once again for good measure, then picked up the tray and took it to the table. There was a round of thanks. He sat with Phaedra beside him. Conversation continued uninterrupted and without pause. Phaedra made her excuses after ten minutes or so and disappeared into the Pendants. Thancred followed ten minutes later, keeping his steps as unhurried as possible as he made his way through to her apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knocked, the door opened without the latch being turned, he entered and admired the sight before him as he shut and locked the door. Phaedra, wearing a flimsy garment of lace that barely came down to her hips, leaning up on her side with her hair all loose and stylishly messy. She arched a brow and cocked her head at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter,” Thancred shed his coat as he approached, leaving it strewn on the floor. “I’m here now.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Unnecessary Spoiling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sometimes you just wanna spoil the bae ... i like this one for how fucking domestic it is. this is my ultimate guilty pleasure.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When it came to cooking Phaedra knew timing was everything… And seasoning. But timing was just as important. Cook something too long and it would be burnt and dry. Not long enough and it was undercooked, soggy and could potentially make someone sick. She knew this. She knew, also, how important it was for dishes to be ready to be served together for a meal to have its desired impact. One of the reasons she enjoyed cooking so much was because of the precision required, she was in control in the kitchen - despite the mess of pots and pans waiting to be washed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was almost ready. She spent most of the day cooking after procuring the few ingredients she didn’t already have at home. The table was ready to be set, the apartment was tidy. She had changed, and wore an apron to keep her clothes clean. She wanted the evening to be the best it could be. After all, it was weeks since she and Thancred were able to have a night in or a night off together. Up until recently she was in Othard again, checking the development and growth of the Doman Enclave. Thancred was in Dalmasca up until a night ago. She hadn’t seen him yet, instead letting him sleep as long as he needed in the Rising Stones and leaving him a note with instructions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was lowering the heat on the oven when she heard the tell-tale sound of keys in the lock. Butterflies ignited in her stomach and she turned towards the door, beaming and expectant. When Thancred entered, he was already smelling the air, not that she blamed him. The air smelled of the spices and herbs she was using; appetizing on its own. He closed the door, glanced around the apartment and then towards the kitchen where she was standing. He looked her over with a slow smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he put the keys to one side and approached. “Look at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra bounced on the balls of her feet, unable to keep her happiness at bay. “Long time no see,” she cupped his jaw as he kissed her, her smile growing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This,” Thancred plucked at the ties of the apron she was wearing, “is </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He peered over the top of her head at the food mid-preparation. “Are we expecting guests?” He went to one pan and lifted the lid, inhaling deeply. A slow, satisfied smile slid into view and he glanced back at her. “Is this crab?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crab croquettes.” Phaedra replaced the lid. “And no, just us.” She patted him on the backside ushering him out of the kitchen area. “Make yourself comfortable. S’almost ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing to himself, Thancred grabbed one of the spare chairs from the dining table and carried it to the kitchenette. He sat on the opposite side of the counter, leaning his arms against it and watching. “You’ve been busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, a little.” Phaedra feigned nonchalance with a small, dainty shrug. He didn’t need to know how long she spent preparing and cooking. It would only make him feel bad that she was spending time on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the occasion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I need a reason to spoil the most handsome man in all the city states?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled again, and Phaedra could have sworn his cheeks pinked. “There I was thinking I was the one known for my flattery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have my moments.” She grinned, and then pointed with a spoon towards the door that divided the living area from the kitchen. “Go and clean up. I’ll be done when you’re back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Thancred disappeared behind the door, Phaedra began to plate the various dishes onto serving platters and set them out on the dining table. She set out plates, cutlery, glasses, a jug of water and two bottles of wine she was given by a merchant she assisted in Wineport when she was still a fledgling adventurer and Scion. When he reappeared, Thancred had removed his bandanna and the majority of his armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat at the table as Phaedra was laying out the platters. “So, we have steppe salad, onigara-yaki, a tempura platter, crab croquettes.” She pointed to each dish as she named them. “And if you have room, there is rolanberry cheesecake for dessert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred eyed each plate, his expression a mixture of hunger and admiration. Steam rose from every dish. He quickly grabbed a piece of tempura and took a bite, savoring the crispness of the coating with his eyes closed. “Phae, this is…” He leaned an elbow on the table and his chin on his fist. “You really…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Phaedra undid her apron, hung it on the back of her chair and sat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She beamed at him across the table. “Not often you get struck speechless.” She teased, “come on, before it gets cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is too much.” Thancred said, taking another piece of tempura and then plating up a few of the croquettes. He heaped some of the salad onto his plate, and paused to open one of the bottles of wine. “You really needn’t go to such lengths for me. I’m not worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you are.” Phaedra argued gently. “Besides, I like cooking. And cooking for someone you care about is more fun. Plus, how frequently do we get to do this?” She gestured to the set table and the spread of food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair point.” Thancred sighed and stretched his legs out beneath the table, “I admit, there was something pleasantly domestic when I opened the door and saw you in your apron.” He huffed through his nose, smiling into his wine glass. “Almost like we were just people living together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled across the table, “We can make believe that’s all we are for the evening. If you like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred appeared to consider the idea, tilting his head to one side before he offered a small smile and straightened in his chair. “So,” he spoke, not addressing her suggestion, “tell me you didn’t have to catch everything you cooked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, Thancred insisted on cleaning up and ushered Phaedra to the living quarters to sit and relax. She was warm and content, full from the meal and flushed from the wine. The couch was deep and cosy underneath her and she was struck for the first time how tired she was. She closed her eyes, determined just to rest them while Thancred cleared the washing up so it wasn’t there in the morning. When she next opened her eyes, she was lying down, her head in Thancred’s lap and a blanket covering her from the shoulders down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” she shifted and stretched a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back,” Thancred put the book he was reading on the side table and patted the side of her head. “All the cooking must have tired you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?” Phaedra rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands as she pushed herself to sit up. Thancred helped her, a supportive hand on her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost midnight.” His fingers teased through her hair. “You were asleep when I finished washing up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” Phaedra pouted a little, “m’sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, “don’t be.” Leaning towards her, he gently bumped his forehead against hers. “We should get to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Agreed Phaedra, stifling a little yawn. As Thancred started to get to his feet, he grabbed his hand to stop him. “Did you like it at least? Dinner, I mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling,” Thancred helped her to her feet and hugged her to his side, pausing a moment to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I am thoroughly spoiled. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” Phaedra tilted her head back, a blithe, sleepy smile on her lips, “makes me happy you enjoyed it.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Bear Hug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I like this one a lot; and yes, this is the Phaedra’s canon confession. Takes place in 4.5, during Prelude in Violet (I think?). Literally the night before the meeting of the Eorzean Alliance, Scions and Lord Hien.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thancred did not like the castle of Ala Mhigo. Not only was it draughty, with winding hallways that stretched for seemed like malms, but the numerous effigies of griffins that adorned every corridor and wall put him on edge. Their stone eyes seemed to watch every single move, and they each looked like they might spring to life at a command. If it would not have angered Lyse - and the Ala Mhigans - Thancred would have removed the faces if each gargoyle he came across, just to not feel like he was being constantly watched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least it was only for this one night. Once the gathering of the Eorzean Alliance, Scions and Lord Hien was concluded he would be able to return to the more familiar and hospitable surroundings of the Rising Stones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked the silent hallways, his steps echoing off the high walls. It was late. Most of the guests retired to the quarters provided to them bells ago. It was habit, as well as insomnia, that caused Thancred to trek the corridors checking for intruders and interlopers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Resistance guards all nodded respectfully to him when he passed them. The few he stopped to talk to reported no unusual activity or suspicious persons in the vicinity. It didn't matter to him, though. Their confident reports did little to settle the uneasy feeling in the back of his mind. Ascians did not always look suspicious, as he well knew. And a gathering of such auspicious guests would be a prime target for their ilk to infiltrate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just the thought of that made Thancred's skin prickle and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He was too wired to sleep. In all likelihood, he would not sleep until the meeting was concluded and all were safely back where they belonged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of familiar laughter broke through his pensive thoughts. Taking stock of his surroundings, Thancred realised he was in the vicinity of the quarrers assigned to the Scions. His own small room was nearby. He was back where his vigil started. The laugh was Phaedra's, and it was clear enough to inform him that her door must have been open. He made a beeline for her room selfishly hoping she would be the panacea to his woes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hope fizzled out when he stood at the threshold. He knew she wouldn't be alone - Phaedra did not laugh when she was alone - but the company with her was not who Thancred was expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aymeric stood little more than a fulm away from where Phaedra was perched on a small writing desk. Still bedecked in his fine armor there was nothing untoward about the scene. Just two friends talking, smiling at each other. Still, jealousy flared in Thancred's chest, tinged with a sense of shame. There was no reason to be jealous. He trusted Phaedra, and Aymeric was too proper to make any advances on her; but that did not matter. Any time Thancred saw Phaedra and Aymeric together the feelings that burned inside him were always the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't anything to do with either of them, not really. It was Thancred's own sense of inadequacy and self-loathing made manifest that reared its head. Aymeric was everything he was not. Refined, open with his feelings, kind, he came from breeding, had connections and a spotless reputation. He was the kind of man the Warrior of Light </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have linked herself with romantically. Not a nobody, picked up from the streets of Limsa for trying to pickpocket the wrong person. Thancred had nothing to offer Phaedra, not even his own last name; Waters was given to him by Louisoix, and while Thancred treasured it he was aware that it was not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides that, Aymeric was clearly in love with Phaedra. It was obvious. Every look and every gesture spoke to the volumes of his love and adoration for her, even if those feelings were not requited. Thancred could not be like that. He could not wear his heart on his sleeve, or in his eyes or in his words. He was too well trained to keep everything in check and carefully controlled…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra deserved better. She deserved the sincere, gentle love of Ser Aymeric de Borel… but Thancred was a selfish creature, and he kept her for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It seems I am not the only one seeking your counsel," Aymeric spoke with a warm smile directed both at Phaedra and Thancred. "I shall take my leave." Thancred watched as Aymeric took Phaedra's left hand and kissed the back of it. "Until the 'morrow." He gave a little bow of his head in reverence and respect, still wearing the same unassuming and friendly smile when he passed Thancred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight, Aymeric!" Phaedra called after him, smiling broadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred waited until Aymeric disappeared around a corner before he crossed the threshold into Phaedra's room and closed the door. She hopped off the desk as he did, and stretched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm surprised you're still up." Phaedra remarked, moving to her bed and turning down the covers. She was wearing the leather necklace Thancred gave her before she departed for Othard. That fact should have dampened any angry feelings still bothering him… But it did not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I you." Thancred's voice was stony. "I thought you would want to be fresh faced and alert for the meeting. Perhaps I was mistaken."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed. "Aymeric came to say hello. We haven't seen each other for a long time. He was asking me about Othard, and we started discussing Lord Francel's plans for rebuilding the Firmament. That's all."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Totally innocent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A voice in Thancred's mind told him. Of course it was innocent. Phaedra would never hurt him with intent or to be malicious. And Aymeric… Well, Aymeric was more likely to challenge Thancred to a duel for Phaedra's affections, than attempt underhanded tactics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the loathing and shame were like a sickness. A toxin coursing through Thancred's veins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's in love with you." Stated Thancred, his voice flat and his arms folded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra sighed heavily and regarded him with a tired expression. How many times had they had this conversation? How many times had Thancred apologized for his insecurities picking at old scabs? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why does that matter?" She asked him. Her gaze softened, growing more patient in the way she looked at him. Twelve bless her, she humored him every time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean, why does it matter?" Thancred blurted out, his words more heated than he meant them to be. He gestured to the door, "it matters because he's in love with you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She replied in an equally heated rush. "Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am in love with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so--" She slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes going wide and bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred stared at her unblinking, his heart in his throat and unable to catch his breath. "Wh-what did you say?" His skin tingled like he was submerged in a warm bath. It was the first time she had spoken those words. The first time he had heard them and they knocked the wind right out of him. The tips of his ears burned. He was rooted to the spot, terrified if he moved Phaedra might flee or disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra shook her head and threw her arms down to her sides. "... NOTHING!" Her face was scarlet, colour bleeding down her neck and mottling her chest. She turned on her heel so her back faced him and Thancred watched as she crossed her arms, a method of protection against the confession now hanging in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crossed the space between them in two short strides and pulled her roughly into a tight hug. He buried one hand in her hair, the other pressing into her back as he leaned back and lifted her off the floor. Phaedra's arms wrapped around his shoulders, the two of them smothering each other in an embrace that felt more apt for a couple parting ways. Phaedra pressed her face into his neck, and Thancred did the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say it again?" Thancred pleaded, his voice a harsh whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stupid." Mumbled Phaedra.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Please?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was small, but he heard her clear as a bell. "I love you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, he wanted to sing. Or cry. Or whoop. Or… or, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Twelve </span>
  </em>
  <span> he didn't know what he wanted to do! He was a melting pot of emotions too big and too intense to identify. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placing Phaedra down on the floor, Thancred tenderly kissed her, preventing any words or questions falling from either of their lips. He couldn't say it back, much as he wanted to and much as he felt the same, it was too honest and vulnerable to admit such a precious thing… but he hoped - he prayed - she could feel it rising up from the depths of his soul and channelled through his kiss. One day, eventually, he would say it to her - for now he hoped this was enough.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thancred’s past shenanigans would have to catch up with him at some point, right?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Phaedra was in a certain kind of mood, Thancred knew it was best to leave her be. To let her stew and take out her frustrations on a canvas, a striking dummy, or a dish in the kitchen. He knew, eventually, she would calm down. That whatever was bothering her would come out in conversation - probably before they slept - after she was given time to consider it and replay scenarios for different outcomes in her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These moods were reasonably rare. In comparison to when they met she was more open to discussing what was upsetting her, even if it was something mundane or inconsequential. She learned it behooved her to communicate, rather than trying to shoulder every little thing alone. It was rare that whatever annoyed her was anything of real consequence. A troubling rumor, a bit of idle gossip, most frequently these moods were triggered by matters beyond her control and minds that could not or would not be changed. Naysayers and those determined to see only doom-and-gloom. Or those using their privilege against the downtrodden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sadly, the Warrior of Light could not combat greed and ignorance as easily as she could Primals and the Empire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found her in one such mood one evening as he entered her apartment in the Goblet. She was throwing paint at her canvas, muttering under her breath and her brows furrowed while she made faces at the colours blending in front of her. There was paint up to her elbows and smeared across her face and horns - clearly she had been at the easel for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sandstorm had engulfed Ul’dah while Thancred was there and he was desperate for a bath and to get out of his itchy clothing. He offered Phaedra a greeting and was met only with a huff. Leaving her to clear her head, he went straight for the bathroom and ran a bath. He was lounging in the hot water, steam curling around him when the door opened and he watched Phaedra slink in. Without a word, she stepped into the tub at the end where his head was, her legs either side of his shoulders and sat on the edge. Thancred shifted. He tilted his head back, watching her pour shampoo into the palm of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll wash your hair.” Phaedra stated, lathering the sweet smelling liquid between her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred straightened and looked ahead at the opposing wall. She only did this if she was feeling contrite… Whatever upset her had something to do with him. Or them. She buried her fingers in his hair and began to work the shampoo through his shaggy, unkempt locks. Thancred dropped his chin to his chest, content to enjoy the sensation before querying her mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra pressed her fingertips into his scalp, massaging his head as she worked. Lather dropped into the bath water and from his periphery, Thancred saw it dripping down her arm and leg. Under the water, he wrapped his fingers around her right ankle and ran his thumb along her scales. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s bothering you?” he asked, glancing back as much as he was able in an attempt to see her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His question was met with stoic silence and the squelch of soapy hair in her hands. She worked her fingers in small circles along his scalp and down towards the back of his head and the nape of his neck. The sensation sent pleasurable ripples down Thancred’s spine and he groaned a little, content, when she turned her focus to the tension in his shoulders. After rinsing his hair with clean water from the tap, Phaedra began to weave his hair into a braid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard people talking about you in the Quicksand.” She explained, her voice hard. “Women. Past lovers.” She released the braid she completed, fastening the silver clasps into place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Thancred nodded, understanding. “And…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And…” Phaedra tutted behind him, then he felt a weight on the top of his head as she leaned her chin on his hair. “I don’t know. I felt…” She slid her arms around his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jealous?” Thancred offered. He knew he had a less than honest past when it came to affairs of the heart. This wasn’t the first time his previous liaisons had come back to bite him, and it was unlikely to be the last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Protective.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprised,Thancred tilted his head back, dislodging Phaedra from where she was perching her chin. “Protective?” he repeated, stroking her forearm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were saying horrible things about you. Calling you names.” She kissed his forehead, though her eyes remained averted while she recalled her memories. “I wanted to step in. Say something. Defend your honor, if you will.” She huffed a laugh and Thancred found himself smiling fondly, “But I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Tis not worth getting upset about.” Thancred assured her in a soft tone. He tilted his head further back and angled it enough that he could graze his mouth along the edge of her jaw. “The past is the past, and while mine was colourful I left many a wounded heart in my wake. Disparaging comments are to be expected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to make a scene or… Have to explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was defending you.” Phaedra continued. Pressing her thumbs against the nape of Thancred’s neck, she began to rotate them against a knot. “I’m not ashamed of you. Of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed deeply, “I was more angry at myself. Kept replaying what they were saying and what I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to say. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am touched you would want to defend my honor.” Thancred remarked, teasing her a little by repeating her words and gaining a smile in reward, “but it would make no difference. Rarely can minds be changed when there is pain tainting that opinion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Phaedra looked thoughtful for a moment, her expression clouded by something that unsettled Thancred. He knew her thoughts, her worries, even without asking. With a past like his how could she not doubt that he would leave her heart in pieces the way he had so many others. It was easier when he was a younger man. When he was not so haunted by the mistakes of his past, and the burdens he now carried. It was easier to find a bed to share for the night, a person to woo and shower with praise only to leave them in the lurch the next morning. He never promised himself or his fidelity to anyone, but he hurt people all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phaedra,” Thancred turned in the bathtub so he was now facing her. Still wearing a loose shirt, she was only in her underclothes from the waist down. Thancred took her hands, tugged, and Phaedra joined him in the water, kneeling. “You have no need to worry.” He said, sliding his wet hands through her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who said I was worried?” She tried to be nonchalant. “I’m not worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned towards her and gently bumped his forehead against hers. “Phaedra.” Thancred closed his eyes; they inhaled and exhaled in unison several times before he opened them again. “Being with you is the happiest I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> been.” He ran his thumb back and forth along her jaw. “I would never jeopardize that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Phaedra’s lips quirked into a half-hearted smile. “Deep down, I know. But hearing them talk about you… I suppose there’s an element of fear. Fear you’ll get bored of me. Of how often we have to be apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred shook his head. “Being apart is a burden we share, and we make the most of our time together when we have it. And I could never get bored of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m the Warrior of Light?” she rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He held her chin in his fingers. “Because I care about you. Far more than I think you realise.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and proceeded to brush his nose against hers. “Clearly, I need to do more to help quell your fears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra smiled, a brief glimmer there and gone in the blink of an eye. Before he could speak, she was kissing him hotly, her mouth drawing him away from their heartfelt conversation. Water splashed around them as she lifted her arms and pushed her fingers back through his hair, pushing it back from his temple. He slid his arms across her back, hands spread and fingers grasping at her waterlogged shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take me to bed, Thancred.” Phaedra rasped into his mouth, heat rising between them with every touch. Thancred knew they would return to this topic later, maybe today, maybe in a moon, but eventually. For now though, he was content to reassure Phaedra of his devotion to her in other ways.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Movie Night [Eorzean Equivalent: Theatre]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is very phoned in because I could not think of anything for it. &gt;&lt;<br/>Not uploaded to tumblr.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The inside of the Prima Vista was an environment Phaedra had never seen before. Stage props in the middle of being made or painted were propped up everywhere, and actors paced the floor reciting their lines at one another. It was a hive of activity so foreign to anything and everything she knew: it was hard not to get swept up in it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Jenomis safely returned to his children and the ship, there was little for her to do but sit and observe the comings and goings. She had never been to the theatre, unless one counted the public performances that took place around Little Ladies Day, so seeing the inner workings of a theatre ship was quite something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone was immaculate in their costumes, with their hair and make up just so. The stage was set for blocking, Alma and Razma taking center stage to recite the words of their father. The words of the Second Zodiac Brave. Phaedra watched them, intrigued and enthralled. Lights flickered from somewhere high above, flooding the stage and adding atmosphere as the words were spoken. Jenomis directed the two of them from where the orchestra would be located when the play was properly performed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was more involved in the theatre than Phaedra ever considered - not that she had considered it much. More people behind the scenes to help with costume and set changes. More people needed to build those props and make the costumes for the actors. More actors, some that took on more than one role in a performance. It was a dizzying spectacle, one she was enamored with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As far as she knew, the Prima Vista would be stationed in Kugane for the foreseeable future. If things remained peaceful at home and abroad, there was no reason she and Thancred couldn’t take the trip to Kugane they discussed in passing. It would be fun to wander a foreign city arm-in-arm where next to no one knew them. Fun to partake in the local cuisine and to finish an evening with a private performance above the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a big ask, but Jenomis seemed a reasonable sort of man, and given he owed his life, in part, to Phaedra’s intervention and exploration of Ivalice… Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much to ask. She wondered if Thancred had ever been to the theatre. Maybe in Sharlyan - unless, of course, scholars didn’t enjoy that kind of thing? She wasn’t entirely sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching Alma and Razma recite their lines, Phaedra smiled to herself. She would run the idea passed Thancred when she returned to the Rising Stones. With any luck, they might be able to begin arranging things before long. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Hand-Holding For Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is another one I like. I know people may feel some of the Scions are acting out of character, but I feel like there would be some strong feelings about the WoL and a Scion embarking on a relationship together. It was always fun to write Phaedra's anger.</p><p>This takes place sometime during Stormblood, after the MSQ, but before Prelude in Violet.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The air in the Solar of the Rising Stones was tense and heavy. Phaedra would have rather been facing down Nidhogg again, or Shinryu, instead of facing her Scion companions. Y’shtola’s expression was the worst; a face like thunder, her ears flat against her head. Alisaie and Krile each stood with their arms crossed, faces hard and unreadable. Alphinaud was the only one who did not look like he was about to start shouting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside her, Thancred squeezed her hand and ran his thumb along hers in an offer of support. That did not escape Y’shtola’s notice and she tutted, sighing audibly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not know what you were thinking.” Said Y’shtola, her tail flicking back and forth. “This is entirely improper and selfish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me, Y’shtola, but what is improper or selfish about it?” Thancred spoke clear and slow, not a hint of hesitation or regret. “We are both adults, and our relationship has not impeded our work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thus far!” Y’shtola snapped. “Just because it has not happened yet does not mean it will not happen.” She levelled Phaedra with a cold look. “I would expect this from Thancred, but not from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Phaedra asked, confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the Warrior of Light.” Krile explained. She, at least, was trying to be more gentle in her tone than Y’shtola. “You are meant to be above all reproach and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a person before I was the Warrior of Light. I still </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> a person.” Phaedra explained, fighting to keep her voice level. “I have hopes and dreams and wants and yearnings and desires, that hasn’t changed just because I now hold that title.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be that as it may,” Krile continued, a little stilted. “You cannot afford to be distracted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra wanted to scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All this fuss over a relationship? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A relationship that had not, in any way, impacted her duty or Thancred’s duties to the Scions or to Eorzea since it began. A relationship they kept secret for the very reason Y’shtola and Krile were now demonstrating. It was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>unfair</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The way they spoke of her, it was as though they believed as the Warrior of Light she was to be an unfeeling machine. Something to be brought out when the need was dire and then tucked away when the threat was gone. To abandon the person she was before Hydaelyn chose her for the lofty perch upon which she struggled to sit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not distracted.” Phaedra said, steadily. “I have done and fulfilled all my duties with the utmost professionalism. I have thrown myself into the jaws of death more times than I care to count and have come out the other side. Why should I be denied a sliver of happiness when all around me is blood and battle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred ran his thumb along hers once more. She could feel him shaking beside her, anger boiling in his skin at the reactions of their supposed friends and colleagues. She did not dare to look at him, but the regular brush of his skin on hers was a comfort that settled deep inside her stomach. At least he wasn’t turning on her, and at least things were out in the open now. They would not have to hide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one is saying you do not deserve happiness,” Krile seemed to struggle a little to find the words she wanted. “Could you not have waited?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waited?” repeated Phaedra, bristling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waited until when?” Thancred’s voice was a harsh growl. “Until Garlemald was no more? Until peace reigned supreme? Until when, Krile? When would have been the ideal time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krile turned her helpless gaze to Y’shtola who was still clearly furious if the flare of her tail was anything to go by. “Alisaie? You’re very quiet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have chosen someone else to pursue, Thancred.” Alisaie shifted her weight from one hip to the other looking more uncomfortable, than angry. “Someone not quite so important to Eorzea’s survival.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra took a step slightly in front of Thancred, as if protecting him and answered, before he could. “I pursued Thancred.” She stated boldly, “if you want to lay the blame at anyone’s feet then lay it at mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phaedra…” beside her, Thancred exhaled. He squeezed her hand again. “It was mutual.” He added, after a pause. The space behind Phaedra’s nose prickled painfully. “I pursued her, she pursued me. We’re both to blame. Though, I see no reason blame need be laid upon anyone’s shoulders. It is not a crime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It may not be, but there are consequences to every action.” Y’shtola said evenly. “Your relationship may not have impacted your individual work </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but it will. There will come a time when one of you is in danger and the other will jeopardize their mission or their own lives to protect the other. It is the way of things. The mission will suffer, and worse, we may lose one or both of you. Then where would Eorzea be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made a fair point. A point Thancred and Phaedra had discussed at length before in private. Between them was an agreement that when working together as Scions </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> came first, above all else. Of course, Y’shtola and the others did not know that. They were viewing the whole thing as if dealing with love struck teenagers, banned from seeing each other and caught sneaking around. Phaedra thought they were all overreacting - this was exactly why they never told anyone about them. For fear of this exact response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Y’shtola continued her expression softening with her voice. “You are Eorzea’s chief line of defence Phaedra, against Primals, against the Empire… Against all threats. You cannot afford to be thinking selfishly. To be focusing on your own happiness when so many other lives depend on you. When so many other people </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. You must understand that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra looked from Y’shtola, to Krile, to Alisaie and to Alaphinaud. Krile was nodding in agreement, while Alisaie looked like she was pondering how hard she needed to hit the door to knock it down so she could leave. Alphianud was thoughtful, though smiled warmly when he met her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” at her side Phaedra balled her free hand into a fist. Indignation bubbled up inside her, fueled by resentment to her duty, to the pedestal she had been thrust upon, to the world and people that demanded </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> from her, “as far as you are concerned I am nothing more than a weapon?” Her voice was still and waspish, but calm. “I should be as unfeeling as steel? As sturdy as stone? That I should be bereft of emotion and selfless to the extent to self-sacrifice?” She stared at Y’shtola. “Is that what you are saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opposite her, Y’shtola blinked her white eyes several times and looked, for a moment, lost for words. “We-well… That-- I don’t mean--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a mindless, unfeeling weapon.” Snarled Phaedra, baring her teeth and her tail lashing back and forth behind her. “I was Phaedra Mero before I became the Warrior of Light. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> Phaedra Mero even as I am the Warrior of Light. If you take issue with my choices then perhaps you should enchant a mammet to follow instructions without question or pause, and without the pesky emotions you so despise in me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phaedra--” Krile tried to step in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> discussing this.” She growled in Krile’s direction, eyes narrowed. Her head was throbbing, her heart was racing and though she was so angry there was a red mist descending over her vision, she tethered herself to Thancred’s hand in hers. “I have no intention of ending things with Thancred, whether you like it or not. I will fulfill my duties as the everso esteemed Warrior of Light and as a Scion, as I’m sure he will, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will not</span>
  </em>
  <span> sacrifice the only happiness I have to do it. Not for you, not for Eorzea, not for anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anyone could say a word, Phaedra dropped Thancred’s hand and turned on her heel. She wretched open the door to the Solar and slammed it behind her, and repeated the action with the door to her own quarters. She stalked from her armoire to her dresser, grabbing up handfuls of random clothes, books, crystals, and anything else she felt she needed, jamming them all into a pack she kept under her bed. She was breathless with fury as she grabbed things and stuffed them away, punching them down to the bottom of the bag to take out her frustration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How dare they stand there and talk down to them like that? Talk at them like they were selfish fools not knowing what they were getting themselves involved in, and the risks it would entail. Did they think she and Thancred had been wandering around in a dream this entire time?! Had she not defeated Nidhogg while they were together? Had she not journeyed to Othard without him? Had she not felled the Warring Triad, and Susano, and Lakshmi, and Shinryu while their relationship was happening behind closed doors?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing. None of what she had accomplished had been impeded by her affection for Thancred, nor his for hers. And he had ventured into the belly of Garlemald and Ala Mhigo. Not once had their feelings for each other prevented either of them from completing their tasks or their duties to the fullest extent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could they stand there and disparage them so openly and without a single onze of knowledge? How could they judge them from their great heights of superiority and tell them it was selfish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How dare they!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra spun and threw the shirt in her hand at the door when she heard it open. It stopped midair, caught in Thancred’s hand as he stood just inside her quarters. Phaedra struggled to breathe through the sobs she was trying to suppress. Tears started falling some point while she threw her things into her pack and hadn’t stopped. She watched as Thancred put the shirt onto her dresser and approached with his arms open. She all but fell into him, burying her face in his jerkin as her shoulders trembled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was quite a display.” Thancred ran his hand over the top of her head and her back, soothing her gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M’sorry,” she hiccuped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant them,” Thancred kissed the top of her head. “Planning a trip?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra peered over her shoulder at the bag on her bed. “I was going to go home. To my apartment in the Goblet.” She shrugged and wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand. “I don’t want to be here right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand that.” Thancred tucked her hair behind her horns. “Alphinaud spoke up after you left; said he had an inkling something was going on. He believes we’re doing the right thing, taking some joy where we find it.” He kissed her forehead, down the slope of her nose and then her mouth, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “Don’t run away. Y’shtola and Krile will come around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They want me to be a machine.” Phaedra sniffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, “they do not. They did not choose their words well, but they know that could never be. They had good intentions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are very forgiving and… jovial, despite what just transpired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could I not be?” Thancred smiled, “you jumped in to defend me at the first opportunity. And now, we no longer have to hide.” He held her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “If we show a united front they will have to accept it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if they don’t? Or never do?” asked Phaedra, lifting a brow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They will. In time. Of that I have no doubt.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, “we have endured moons apart, loss and grief, secrets and doubts. Phae, we can endure this if we stick together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sniffling again, Phaedra nodded once and quickly buried herself in Thancred’s chest again, fresh tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to believe him and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was right… But there was a pit in her stomach, a familiar sensation of doubt.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Forehead Kisses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Early days of Thancred and Phaedra’s relationship. When they’re still not sure what they are and are trying to find their feet.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A storm had come to Mor Dhona. </p><p>Wind howled through the hallways of the Rising Stones and caused the glass in the window panes to rattle so hard it sounded like they might break. Hailstones the size of a midlanders fist started falling in the afternoon, and had been relentlessly buffeting the walls like artillery. It was a miracle anyone could sleep. </p><p>Despite his best efforts Thancred could not. Despite dragging his mentally strung-out self to bed bells ago, sleep was kept at bay by the endless barrage. Normally, an afternoon of research and transcribing information from dusty tomes to his own shorthand would have meant a night of restful sleep. The storm raging outside had other plans, and Thancred grew increasingly tense each time the wind picked up. </p><p>The chronometer he kept near his bed read almost three in the morning when he dragged his bloodshot eyes over its face. He sat on the edge of his bed, feet flat on the cold stone floor grounding him to the conscious world - despite how his mind and body complained and fought against it. The glass shaking in the window pane set his teeth on edge. </p><p>With what felt like a monumental effort he pushed himself to his feet. If natural sleep was elusive, then maybe assisted sleep would come easier. He knew there were tinctures and herbs for just such an issue kept in the kitchens and made a sluggish journey there. </p><p>Upon entering, he was met with the smell of something fragrant in the air. A sconce was lit on one wall and a kettle was suspended on a metal stand above some dying embers. </p><p>Someone else was awake.</p><p>He inhaled the scent of whatever was in the kettle. Rich, and comforting - he knew the smell of cocoa, but there was something else in there, too. Regardless, he walked past it and started to rifle through the cupboards.</p><p>"Can't sleep either?" A voice asked from behind him. He turned, eyes half open, in the direction of the voice. </p><p>Phaedra was sitting at a small table under one of the small, square windows, a mug of whatever was in the kettle steaming between her hands. She was wearing a robe tied tight around her. </p><p>"No," Thancred went and sat in the chair opposite her. "I was hoping to find something to help."</p><p>She looked him over, her face sympathetic - Gods, did he look that bad? "I can whip up a sleeping draught for you."</p><p>"None ready made?" He asked in, even he would admit, a pathetic voice.</p><p>Phaedra shook her head. "It won't take long." She rose to her feet, brushing her hand on his arm as she walked passed him. Down in the kitchen the storm didn't sound nearly as bad. Probably because the windows were smaller. </p><p>Thancred watched as she busied herself, gathering herbs, a pestle and mortar, and setting freshwater on to boil. She worked diligently, and without speaking, measuring out different ingredients and thoroughly grinding them. </p><p>"Have you been awake long?" Asked Thancred, leaning his weight on the table like it was the only thing keeping him upright.</p><p>"A few bells." Phaedea spoke over her shoulder. Her tail swayed lazily from side-to-side as she worked. "I made some cocoa to settle myself. When I realised the noise wasn't so bad down here, I decided to stay until the worst passed."</p><p>"It's terrible out there." Remarked Thancred, glancing at the window. "I've never seen the market so abandoned."</p><p>It was odd how they talked about the weather and skirted around any real topics. Strange how they could be so at home with each other in bed, but feel like total strangers in this. They discussed intimate details of each other's lives in the bells after making love… If that was even what they did. Maybe it was more two lonely souls seeking a remedy to that isolation, if only briefly.</p><p>It wasn't as though they weren't friends. They were. Even before the banquet they were friends, and before their relationship became more physical. There was still some sort of barrier, though. Some kind of blockade that did not allow them to fully embrace or accept what they had started. </p><p>Perhaps it was the exhaustion talking, but Thancred regretted it. Regretted not being clear in what he wanted from Phaedra that night he went to her in Ishgard after they reunited in Dravania. It wasn't - had not been - mindless, meaningless sex to him. They were connected. She was his tether in the Lifestream, the vague tug on his soul that kept him somewhat aware in the expanse of aether and endlessness. </p><p>He wasn't able to articulate it then. Nor could he now. Honest words were things he struggled with. Letting his walls down, allowing himself to be vulnerable and to want. It was too risky. Too frightening. The risk of rejection. The fear of it from someone he genuinely cared for paralysed him. </p><p>"Here," Phaedra cut through his thoughts, placing a mug down in front of him. The liquid inside was a sludgy green colour, and it smelled about as appealing as it looked. His reluctance must have been readable in his face because Phaedra spoke again. "I know it doesn't smell amazing, but drink it down and by the time you're back at your room you'll be asleep on your feet."</p><p>Sleep did sound good.</p><p>Thancred drank down the mixture in several gulps, grimacing the whole time. The taste was herbal and it burned the back of his throat, but when he put the mug down it was empty. </p><p>"Come on, I don't want to have to carry you."</p><p>By the time they reached the hallway of the senior Scions quarters the edges of Thancred's mind were fuzzy. The potion was fast acting. He doubted another Calamity would wake him once his head finally hit the pillow. They reached his door.</p><p>"Well, goodnight Thancred." </p><p>As Phaedra turned to go, Thancred reached out for her wrist. He stared at his hand on her skin, his fingers moving over her scales as he tried to fight through the haze to find his words. He wanted to thank her. Instead he managed to say, "Stay."</p><p>She stared at him. Turquoise eyes big and bright, like starlight. Twelve, she was so devastatingly beautiful - and if his mind wasn't addled he would have told her so. "Please." He uttered, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. He was a clumsy fool.</p><p>Phaedra reached behind him and opened the door. "Bed." She told him gently. </p><p>Thancred released her wrist, something in his chest growing tight and painful as though it was in a vice. He entered his room and made a line for his unmade bed. The door closed. He sat on the edge of his mattress and stared at the floor. After a few moments a shadow fell over him. </p><p>"Get into bed." Phaedra ushered him to lie down. The squeezing sensation receded, relief and a strange kind of elation replacing it. Thancred lay down, moving close to the wall.to make room. </p><p>She joined him, pulling the covers up and settling in close. She wrapped him up in her arms - a safe and warm place - and twined their legs together. He reciprocated the embrace, heavy limbs finding a home on her back and under her thighs. Thancred buried his face into her neck and inhaled. </p><p>"This is the first time we've shared a bed." He remarked, the thought bringing him a giddy kind of joy. </p><p>"We've shared a bed dozens of times." Phaedra kissed his forehead and slid deft fingers through his hair. "Go to sleep."</p><p>"Not like this we haven't." Thancred rebuffed her, indignant. "We're clothed."</p><p>He was met with silence, and then her lips kissing his forehead again. "Go to sleep, Thancred." He could not see it, but he heard her smiling.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Shared Looks From Across A Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really struggled with coming up for an idea for this one... But I feel like over time couples learn each other's looks and tells, and can communicate almost telepathically. </p><p>Very much more Thancred focused and introspective. His fears of losing people he loves rearing its head again... And Phaedra being too nice to excuse herself when a migraine strikes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thancred lingered at a table in the Wandering Stairs. Sitting alone, he nursed the almost empty tankard in front of him, glancing up occasionally at the gaggle of people at the bar. Phaedra was in the middle, surrounded on all sides by patrons and acquaintances who were eager to hear her recount the rescue of the Exarch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been in demand for days now, and while the jubilant atmosphere of the Crystarium was slowly dying down now that night had returned for good, Phaedra remained in high demand. Whether she was being asked to assist in the Mean, or on an errand for someone, or just to simply be talked at, there was an endless parade of people vying for her attention and her time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of habit, Thancred stuck close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Phaedra could handle the attention and the praise, although she did not like to and the discomfort was clear on her face - if only to him when he glimpsed it. The main reason he remained in close proximity was down to guilt and memories. The night of the Bloody Banquet, he was not within easy reach. He was not even within the main chamber when it all went to Hell. No, he had been outside, observing and talking. Rather than inside, watching and calculating the actions and intentions of those around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guilt he felt at not being immediately present threatened to suffocate him at times. Perhaps, if he had been inside the chamber, instead of outside, things might have been different. Things may not have unfolded the way they did. He might have noticed something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone or something, realised there was something amiss about the whole situation and that the entire gathering felt… </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As it was, he had not been there, and the terror and events that unfolded from that fateful night lay firmly on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could not - </span>
  <em>
    <span>would not - </span>
  </em>
  <span>allow that kind of treachery to unfold again or go unnoticed by him. Not with Phaedra, not with anyone he held dear. He and his Scion family had all lost so much already. Too much. The losses mounted, and were a crushing weight on all of them. Not an active weight, but a weight that appeared in silence. That settled around their shoulders like an old friend, sapping them of energy and filling their thoughts with the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what could haves’. The mere potential that someone in the Crystarium could have dark intentions towards Phaedra was why he stayed so close, and while the denizens of the Crystarium did not seem at all threatening… It was a risk he was not willing to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plus, Phaedra was easily overwhelmed by accolades and praise. It made her uncomfortable, and he knew she appreciated having a friendly, well known face in the crowd to turn to. One she could seek out when she was feeling ‘wobbly’ (as she put it) and that could settle the roiling anxiety inside her. She was too polite to excuse herself and leave others disappointed when she reached her limit. Whereas Thancred had no qualms about inserting himself into the fray and escorting her from her adoring public so she could decompress. Someone had to watch out for the Warrior of Darkness and her already frayed nerves and delicate mental health, and after leading the charge through various skirmishes he was now more accustomed to watching her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning back to down what was left of his drink, Thancred peered over the tankard in the direction of the crowd. He could see Phaedra in the middle of it all, blonde-pink hair too obvious to miss. He looked her over, looking for signs of discomfort. Hands curled into fists on her lap. The end of her tail twitching. Maybe she could feel his gaze, because she glanced over in his direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you alright?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Asked Thancred, meeting her eyes and with a small head tilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Help.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Phaedra’s smile grew strained for a brief instant. The next moment she touched her fingers to her temple, making it appear casual by tucking hair behind her horn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thancred got to his feet and carried the tankard to the bar. He gave it to Glynard with a smile, refusing the offer of a refill and eased himself within the bustle of people and voices. He pressed his hand to the small of Phaedra’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Exarch is expecting us.” Thancred lied, projecting his voice so those around her could hear and would be less likely to question. “Let us grab what we need from the Pendants and make for the Ocular.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra nodded. She was gritting her teeth and her complexion was pale and waxy. A migraine, then. Thancred wondered how long it was brewing, and how long she suffered with it while wanting nothing more than to hide away in the dark from the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My apologies for stealing her away.” Thancred kept his hand on Phaedra’s back, guiding her out of the throng of people with a firm, but gentle hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite a few moans of protests the crowd let them go unmolested. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Pet Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which Thancred learns how to push more of Phaedra’s buttons. And the pet name “darling” is acquired in jest.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“There you are, sweetheart!” An elezen man strode past where Thancred and Phaedra were sitting, and grasped the hand of a waiting roegaden woman. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman trilled back, “honey!” She hugged the man’s arm and started to drag him off towards a stall further down the road, babbling excitedly about some necklace or other she had seen. The man looked fondly exasperated and fell into step with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra watched them until they disappeared into the crowd, smirking to herself. “Talk about hen pecked.” She muttered, lifting a piece of shortbread to her mouth and taking a bite. “He must have a bottomless supply of gil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he just likes spoiling her.” Thancred replied. There was an almost full cup of coffee in front of him, still steaming in the Ul’dahn heat. He gave Phaedra a long look. “Sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather you didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pet names not to your liking?” he leaned an elbow on the table, his chin on his fist and a self-satisfied grin curling the corners of his lips. “Or do you take issue with sweetheart specifically?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a name.” Phaedra replied, primly. “And it does me just fine.” She took another bite of shortbread and chewed thoughtfully. “Besides,” she wiped crumbs on a napkin, “I never imagined you as someone who favoured pet names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, “they have a time and place.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m sure you have a long list of ones used with previous lovers.” Phaedra gave him a knowing look. To his credit, he did not squirm or even attempt to deny her. They both knew his past and his long, </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> history of lovers. It did not bother her as much as it once did… Still, it was fun to needle him about it on occasion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never really used them.” Thancred explained. He picked at a stray thread on his glove. “No need. And they always seem forced. At least when I did attempt to use them. There needs to be sincerity behind it to make it stick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra had to agree with that. Maybe the couple they saw liked the pet names they had for each other because there was clear affection within the moniker. The smiles on their faces spoke volumes, far more than their words ever could. Phaedra never had so much as a nickname growing up. And the few lovers she had in the past never tried to foust an uncomfortable pet name onto her. They probably knew she would only reject it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about petal?” asked Thancred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra snorted into her drink. “Do I look like a dainty flower?” Taking a sip, she shook her head. “If you’re set on giving me a pet name, at least make it appropriate… Thanny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh.” Thancred grimaced and visibly shuddered. “Never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> say that again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sore spot?” Phaedra laughed. “Your name doesn’t exactly lend itself easily to being shortened. There’s either Thanc, which just sounds like you’re not thanking someone properly. Or… Red. Which would make sense if your hair was red.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about yours?” Thancred retorted with a small smile. “Phae, or Dra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged one shoulder. “Phae isn’t so bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” His visible brow lifted. Phaedra could only assume the one under his bandanna was also raised. “You’re comfortable with Phae?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said: ‘it isn’t so bad’.” She repeated, “I wouldn’t be happy if everyone started using it… RIght place and time I suppose I could stomach it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it sound like such a burden.” Thancred stretched his legs out and lifted his coffee cup. “What would constitute the right time and place, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tossing her hair over one shoulder, Phaedra peered out at the crowds of people in Sapphire Avenue watching them go about their day. Barkers offering deals on their wares. Shoppers haggling for a better deal, while unknowingly being swindled. “That’s something you’ll need to find out.” She slid her gaze back to Thancred, “darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned forward in his chair. “Not very original, dearest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phaedra scrunched her face up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Darling,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she added emphasis. “It isn’t as twee as ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s also rather bland.” Thancred curled his lip back like he could smell rotting fish. “Wouldn’t you rather something more interesting. Sweet stuff, or Sweetie pie or--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I remind you,” Phaedra interjected with a smile, “I punch things to death on a daily basis. Soft, flouncy names aren’t really a good fit for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you punch things to death is all the more reason for me to give you a soft, flouncy - as you put it - pet name.” Thancred was grinning, teasing her with the threat of a saccharine name now looming over her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me something stupid like Cupcake. See where that gets you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cupcake?” Thancred repeated, “I like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned and buried her face in her hands. After a few moments, she peeked through her fingers and saw Thancred watching her from across the table. His expression was somewhere between a smirk and a grin, and he was fighting not to laugh. Phaedra shook her head and dropped her hands to her lap. After a few moments of silence the two of them began laughing like two naughty children, unable to contain their amusement and each shushing the other, which only led to more laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took several attempts for the two of them to quieten down. By the time they did, they were each red in the face, Phaedra had tear streaks on her cheeks and was gripping her ribcage where it was aching. Thancred downed what was left of his coffee and took a deep breath, as if to settle the threat of any more giggles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>darling</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He drawled the word and offered his hand to Phaedra, getting to his feet. “We have an appointment to keep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>darling,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Phaedra replied, accepting his outstretched hand. “I would hate to keep the General waiting.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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